


The Crack in the Muffler

by mutents



Series: The Road Before Us [6]
Category: Father Brown (2013)
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, Bars and Pubs, Cheating, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 09:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11010546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutents/pseuds/mutents
Summary: “The Earl of Montague… is a dirty bastard!"Sid rolled his eyes. It was always the same story with Miller; the man was always complaining about someone while he was completely pissed. It was the Saturday night routine at the Red Lion; annoying as hell, but unfortunately unavoidable.





	The Crack in the Muffler

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the Spring of 1950.

“The Earl of Montague… is a dirty bastard!”

Sid rolled his eyes. It was always the same story with Miller; the man was always complaining about someone while he was completely pissed. It was the Saturday night routine at the Red Lion; annoying as hell, but unfortunately unavoidable.

“Hey Davey,” Sid said, nodding to the bartender. “Can I get another pint?”

“’Course,” David said, grabbing Sid’s empty pint glass and taking it to the tap. “How’s the Father been doing?”

“Getting on Sullivan’s nerves, like usual,” Sid said, smirking at the thought. Ever since Sullivan had arrived in March he’d been nothing but a pain. The man drove Sid up the wall, and the Father’s usual peaceful schtick was getting nowhere with the Inspector.

“How long do you think it will take to break this Inspector in?” Davey asked, setting the pint in front of him and leaning against the bar.

“Honestly? Don’t know if he will. Sullivan’s got quite a stick up his…”

“And Lady Montague! She’s nothing but a slut!” Miller shouted, interrupting what Sid was about to say.

Sid stopped, turning slowly on his barstool to look at the drunkard. “What did you just say?” He asked, looking the old man right in the eye.

“You heard me, Carter! I said that your boss is a slut! She’s going to burn in hell!”

Sid pushed himself to his feet, taking a threatening step towards Miller. “You want to take that back, Miller?”

“I’m not going to take back the truth, Carter. She’s a loose woman, with weak morals. If you were a smart man you’d quit working for the woman!”

Sid chuckled darkly, before reaching out and grabbing Miller by the collar of his shirt. “I don’t think you understand; that wasn’t a question.”

Miller struggled against Sid’s hold for a few seconds, before taking a swing at his face. From there, it quickly descended into a brawl with the entire pub involved.

* * *

Sid sighed, hanging up the phone and placing his head on the police station counter. He hit his forehead against the flat surface a few times, hoping that doing so would reverse everything that had just happened. On one of the bumps, he let out a hiss of pain, having accidentally hit his bruised eye.

“No luck?” Goodfellow asked, looking up from the form he was filling out and sounding genuinely apologetic.

“She didn’t pick up,” Sid muttered, not standing up from where he was leaned. “Defend a woman’s honor, and what do you get Goodfellow? An unanswered phone.”

“She’s probably in bed,” Goodfellow said, giving a sage nod. “It is rather late.”

Sid looked at the clock on the police station wall. “I think it’s technically early now,” he said.

“Carter,” Sullivan said, stepping through the front door of the station with a frown on his face, his usually impeccable suit looking hastily put on. “This better be good, getting me out of bed at this hour.”

“You really didn’t need to come in, sir,” Goodfellow said, passing Sid the finished form to sign. “I was just going to put him in a cell until morning. I’ve already got Miller drying out in the drunk tank, sir.”

Sid groaned, crossing his arms on the counter and placing his head against them.

“No, it’s alright Goodfellow. I might as well figure out what went on now, since I’m here.” Sullivan looked at Sid, gesturing towards his office. “Carter.”

“Sullivan,” Sid responded mockingly.

“Don’t push me today, Carter,” Sullivan said, narrowing his eyes.

Sid sighed, pushing himself away from the counter and shuffling into the Inspector’s office.

“So, what happened?” Sullivan asked once he was settled at his desk and Sid was in the chair across from him.

“I was at the Red Lion, having a pint – usual Saturday night, right?” Sullivan nodded. “I was talking to Davey. About you, actually; about how well you and Father Brown are getting along.” Sullivan rolled his eyes, making Sid smirk. “And Miller, he was doing his usual bit, you know the one. Complaining about whoever’d pissed him off this week. And usually that’s easy enough to ignore, but tonight he was talking about the Earl. And alright, so I ignored that. But then he started talking about Lady Felicia.

“I gave him a chance to say he was sorry. Hell, I didn’t even throw the first punch! Miller did! I was just threatening him!”

Sullivan nodded. “Right. Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to spend the night in one of the cells...”

“Oi! Come on, Sullivan!” Sid exclaimed, standing up from the chair. “Any man in that pub’ll tell you I was in the right! Miller was insulting Lady Felicia!”

Sullivan gave him a nod. “And for once I do feel a tad bit sympathetic. But, you still assaulted another member of the community, Carter. Did Goodfellow give you your phone call?”

“Yes, but no one picked up…” Sid muttered, crossing his arms.

“That’s unfortunate. You’ll have to try again in the morning – I imagine Lady Montague will be wondering where her driver is.”

Sid let out a sarcastic laugh. “You know what, Sullivan? You’re the worst kind of copper.”

“I really don’t think that’s called for,” Sullivan said, rolling his eyes at Carter’s hysterics. “Goodfellow!”

“Yes, Inspector?” Goodfellow said, stepping into the doorway.

“Take Carter back to his cell.” Sullivan paused, narrowing his eyes slightly at the man in question. “And… Let him use the phone again. Maybe this time he’ll get an answer.”

* * *

“Really, Sidney,” Felicia muttered, touching the curlers in her hair. “What were you thinking?” She asked, stepping towards the fridge and taking out a slab of beef, handing it to him. “Put this on your eye.”

Sid nodded in thanks, hissing as he placed it against his eye. “Nina’s going to be furious you wasted a good piece of meat on little ol’ me.”

“She’ll get over it. Now, tell me; what happened?”

Sid shrugged. “Just the usual Saturday night brawl,” he said, not wanting to tell her the whole story.

“I’d say that the usual Saturday night brawl doesn’t usually lead to you being arrested, but I’d be lying.” She sighed, pulling out the other kitchen chair and sitting down heavily on it. “I thought you weren’t doing this anymore,” she murmured, sounding incredibly disappointed in him.

Sid let out his own sigh. He suddenly felt like the world’s biggest ass. “Fine; it was Miller, yeah?”

“What do you mean?” Felicia asked, instantly brightening up, and Sid realized he’d just gotten played by her.

“He was drunk, as he always is, and he was loudly complaining, as he always does,” Sid started before pausing once more.

“If it was a usual night with the usual complaints, what warranted you hitting the man?”

“He started insulting you, yeah?” Sid finally said, throwing his free hand up.

Felicia pulled back. “Whatever do you mean?”

“He was calling you terrible things, things I’d rather not repeat. I called him out on it. He can’t be saying stuff like that about you! At least not while I’m around…”

Felicia chuckled, leaning her elbows against the table.

“How can you be laughing?” Sid asked, genuinely confused by the woman.

“Sid,” she murmured, her voice filled with mirth. “I’ve been called things like slut and whore all of my life. One of the many joys of my station. And those insults only increased once I married Monty.

“I appreciate your concern, and your willingness to defend my honor, but you really needn’t bother. If you went around slugging everyone who’d said a word against me, I fear it would be more than just your eye hurting. I have a feeling you’d end up with a few broken knuckles.”

Sid sighed, standing and tossing the piece of meat into the sink – he’d take it out back when Felicia went back up to bed. He leaned over the sink, not turning to look at her.

He felt Felicia’s hands lightly rest on his shoulders and allowed her to turn him around so that his back leaned against the sink. She gently cupped his cheek, leaning up to press her lips to his. “Never imagined you for the knight in shining armor type, Sid,” she murmured, stroking with her thumb.

“Never imagined it for myself, either,” Sid said, giving her a small smile and bringing his own hands up to brace her face. “Never imagined myself much for any of this,” he whispered, looking deeply into her eyes.

She smiled up at him, moving her hands down to his chest and patting his breast. “I rather like this look on you…” she said, leaning up and pressing her lips to his jaw.

Sid grinned down at her. “I’ll try to wear that hat more often, then.”


End file.
